Laundry Day
by butterflymask1978
Summary: One Shot. Who would have thought sending Sam to do the laundry would ruin Dean's sex life?


"Damn it, Dean," Sam screeched from the bathroom as the cold water hit him in the face.

He had waited for over an hour for his brother to relinquish the bathroom and now that he was finally able to shower he found that Dean had used up all the hot water. If it wasn't for the fact that he wanted to get the stench of their latest hunt off of him he would have jumped out and waited for it to heat up again.

Groaning Sam quickly soaped up and rinsed off. He washed his hair in record time and finally turned the frigid water off. He stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist as he went to grab his clean clothes.

Dean was laid out on his bed flipping through the channels. He took one look at Sam's shivering frame and couldn't help snickering.

"It's not funny, Dean," Sam growled as he grabbed his underwear and pulled them on. "My fucking nipples can cut glass right now."

This made Dean lose it more. Sam grumbled a string of curses under his breath and tossed his towel at his brother, pulling his clothes on in the hopes of warming up. Dean caught the towel and tossed in the corner of the room.

"Face it, Sammy," Dean said as he tucked his arms behind his head on the pillows on his bed. "If you wanna get first dibs on the shower you should have been born first."

"There's no rule that says firstborn gets the damn shower first, Dean," Sam growled as he finished getting dressed.

"Of course there is. It's an unwritten rule. Known only to older brothers of the world," Dean replied and snickered when Sam flipped him off.

Dean sat up just then. "Another unwritten rule is that little brother does the laundry," he said, grabbing the clothes from that night's hunt and tossing them at Sam. "Take care of those, will ya?"

"Would you like me to iron and fold them too," Sam asked through gritted teeth.

"Nah, just wash and dry is good," Dean smiled as he went back to flipping through the stations trying to find something on TV.

Sam finished dressing, pulling on his shoes and grabbing the dirty clothes. "Keys."

"Huh?"

"To the car, Dean," Sam growled. "Did you forget about the bags of laundry in the trunk?"

"Right," Dean smiled, as he slipping his hand into his pocket and pulled out the keys. He tossed them to Sam. "Not too much fabric softener this time, especially those flowery scents."

"Heaven forbid you smell like anything other than a man," Sam muttered as he caught the keys and headed out to the car.

He opened the trunk and shoved the foul smelling clothes into the laundry bag, grumbling about Dean never doing laundry. He slammed the trunk shut and took off out of the parking lot looking for a laundromat. He was sure he'd seen one not far from the motel when they rode into town.

He managed to locate it after driving around for a bit. Parking at the curb in front he hauled the bags of laundry out of the car, ignoring the looks he got from the sparse patrons. They'd all caught a whiff of the clothes as he dragged them to a bank of washers.

Sam separated the clothes in machines and then hit the vending machine for soap, bleach and fabric softener. He smirked as he chose lilac scented softener. Dean would love that.

He tossed the soap in all the machines, started them up and headed over to a bench to sit and wait. With a sigh he rested his head back against the wall behind the bench and absently watched the TV. The picture kept going in and out, mostly snow. Either the channel they had on had some major interference or it was an illegal cable hook up.

Sam had been dozing when he heard the machines finally finish. With a sigh he hauled himself up and grabbed a wheeled basket. He pulled out the darks and lights and started them in a couple of dryers. He opened up the whites and groaned, cursing under his breath.

He reached into the machine and pulled out a T-shirt that was once white. It was now a bright pink. One by one he pulled out pink item after pink item until he found the item that had turned everything the shade of cotton candy. A red sock had somehow found it's way into the whites.

Dean was going to kill him, especially since they didn't have the money to replace the pink items. Everything was ruined; T-shirts, underwear, socks. All were a shade that Dean would rather die than wear.

Shrugging Sam emptied the machine and brought them over to the dryers. He didn't have the money to run them through in bleach again. He didn't think it would help much anyway. He just had to hope that Dean didn't ball him out too much.

* * *

"About time you got back," Dean grumbled. "What the hell took so long?"

"A month's worth of laundry, Dean, that's what," Sam replied, tossing Dean's bag to him. "You want it done half assed then next time you do the damn laundry."

"But no one gets them smelling as April fresh and you, Sammy," Dean smirked. "You came back just in time. I have a hot date with that chick Candy from the bar."

Sam searched his memory and then nodded. Petite, brunette, killer legs and great curves. Right up Dean's alley.

"Want to smell my best," Dean smiled taking his bag into the bathroom.

"You just took a shower before I left," Sam yelled and groaned, flopping onto his bed. No wonder there was so much laundry.

Dean came out of the bathroom holding a pair of pink briefs in his hand. "What the hell is this?"

Sam gave him a cursory glance and shrugged, suddenly finding an Abbott and Costello marathon much more interesting. "I'd say they were your underwear, Dean." He then smirked. "Of course with you freeballing more often than you actually wear them I can see where you'd be confused. They cover your ass and go between your skin and your jeans."

"I know what they're for, smartass," Dean growled. "Why are they fucking pink?"

"Oops," Sam offered.

"Sam! What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm supposed to meet Candy in a half hour," Dean growled.

"Why don't you just leave on the undies you're wearing," Sam suggested.

Dean groaned. "Because I'm not wearing any, Sam!" He ignored his brother making a face at that thought. "I don't want to seem too eager when we go back to her place tonight."

"Heaven forbid," Sam muttered.

"This is NOT funny, Sam," Dean growled.

"I can loan you a pair of mine," Sam offered. Dean snarled and headed back to the bathroom. "Serves you right for only wearing tighty whities," Sam called, chuckling at the string of expletives that came from the bathroom. Dean emerged several minutes later, grumbling to himself.

"Have fun on your date," Sam called as his brother left, chuckling when Dean flipped him off before the door closed.

* * *

"How about we go back to my place," Candy giggled as she snuggled up to him while they danced.

Dean forced a smile. He'd been dreading her saying those words. On any other day he'd be all for vacating the dive bar and going home with her, but he dreaded the reaction she'd have to his newly dyed undies.

"I was just thinking the same thing," he finally said. He'd just have to keep her so occupied that she didn't notice. That was all there was to it.

He took her hand and placed the other one on the small of her back, leading her out to the Impala. Once she was safely inside he slid behind the wheel and listened as she gave him directions to her home. It was hard for him to concentrate with her hand steadily moving up his thigh, but somehow Dean managed to get them there in one piece.

Ever the gentleman he held the door open for her and helped her out of the car. She clung to his side as they made their way up the steps to her apartment. He couldn't help noticing her hand in his back pocket as they walked.

She had no sooner unlocked the door than they were fumbling over each other, kissing and groping as she led the way to her bedroom. Their jackets had been tossed in a trail behind them followed by their shirts.

Once inside the bedroom Candy shoved Dean down to the bed, dropping to her knees between his legs. Dean gulped as she kissed a trail down his chest, pushing him down onto his back.

"Candy, I'd really like to…"

He found her mouth on his, teasing his lips open with her tongue, his thoughts died on his lips as she worked her hands down his chest to his belt buckle. Before long she had his belt undone and his pants open. Dean could only smile as he felt Candy's lips leaving a heated trail down his neck and chest, heading toward his pants.

She slid his jeans over his hips and the kissing stopped. Frowning Dean lifted his head off the bed he saw her blinking at his pink breifs and groaned, dropping his head back to the bed. He was going to kill Sam when he got back to the hotel.

"Nice…undies," she snickered, sitting back on her heels.

"My brother screwed up the laundry," he tried to explain, but she was laughing too hard to even hear him.

"It's not that funny," Dean grumbled, sitting up.

"You…have…pink…undies," Candy gasped between chuckles. "They almost match mine!"

Dean stood, yanking his pants up and buckling them. "Thanks. You know how to show a guy a real good time, Candy." He scooped up his shirt and slipped it back on, exiting the bedroom.

Candy followed him, trying in vain to get her giggles under control. "You don't have to go," she called as he grabbed his jacket and slipped it back on.

"Trust me, sweetheart, it wouldn't be any good now," Dean replied. "Next time I'm in town maybe I'll call ya." With that he left. Before the door closed behind him he could hear Candy burst out laughing once again.

* * *

"How was your date," Sam asked when Dean came back to their room. He glanced at the clock and noted that it was far too early for one Dean's dates to be over yet.

"Shut up," Dean growled, heading for the bathroom.

"Didn't you shower earlier," Sam called.

"Sam, if you say one more word I swear I will shoot you," Dean yelled back.

Sam shrugged and rested back on the pillows going back to working on his laptop. He couldn't suppress the giggles when he heard Dean's yelp from the bathroom. He had no doubt in his mind that his brother had stepped under the cold spray of the shower. Perhaps he should screw up every laundry day. He giggled even harder thinking about it.

**THE END**


End file.
